Sequel: Battling the Loss You Live For. ›
Status: completed; sequel 'Battling the Loss You Live For' is now running.
Smiles Echo In My Memory
Goodbyes.
After I’d zipped up my suitcase and Frank had put it in the boot of his car, I grabbed my large carry-on handbag and headed out of the room, which was now cleared of my belongings. It was actually quite cool out today - cool enough for me to be wearing a pair of my bright yellow skinnies and a Green Day ‘Dookie’ t-shirt. I had a thin yellow hoodie in my bag in case.
Frank was in the living room - he hadn’t come up after he put my suitcase in the car. I could hear him mumbling to Linda over the babbling of the television - he sounded upset. I wasn’t one for eavesdropping. If he wanted to tell me, he would. I took a deep breath, calming myself.
No crying, no crying, no crying…
I walked into the living room, seeing Frank sat in the armchair and Linda on the sofa. Frank smiled at me, and stood up.
“Ready?” he asked, grasping my free hand. I smiled back at him, squeezing his hand. Linda stood up then, and Frank hesitated, pulling my bag from my hands and going out the front door - to put it in the car, I suppose.
“Sazzy…” Linda started, a small smile gracing her lips. I smiled back, and she held out her arms. I walked into them, wrapping my own loosely around her waist.
“I’ll miss you,” I said, my head resting on her shoulder. I heard her sniffle.
“Me, too. Look after yourself, okay? And call, as well,” she encouraged, her voice thick.
No crying, no crying, no crying!
I pulled away, before the stinging sensation that I’d gotten so accustomed to took over.
“Bye, Mum,” I whispered, walking out of the living room and out of the house, looking back at the house I’ll probably never see again. And the people I love so dearly.
Frank was lent across the passenger side of his car, a cigarette nestled between his thumb and fore-finger. When I’d shut the front door behind me, he smiled, dropping his cigarette on the floor and treading on it before walking over to me. He placed two fingers under my chin, pushing up so he could look into my eyes. He took both my hands in his, his deep and bright hazel eyes focused on my brown eyes. His eyes didn’t show much joy at all - they showed sorrow, and apprehension, and possibly regret.
“Are you okay?” he murmured, his eyebrows creasing together in worry. I didn’t reply, and he sighed.
“Are you?” I asked, squeezing his hands. He hesitated.
“How can I be, knowing that I might not ever see you again?” he whispered. We never broke the contact our eyes were making. My eyes started to well up with tears yet again.
No damn crying!
“Don’t cry,” he whispered again, and I could see the tears forming in his. I fought against my emotions, trying to do as I was told.
“Frank, I-”
“It’s okay. I’ll miss you so damn much,” he uttered, in a thick, heavy voice. He let go of my hands, pulling me into him. I dabbed at my eyes, trying to keep my make-up intact but remove the tears clinging to my lashes. His chin rested on my shoulder, and I felt him kissing my neck. I gripped onto him tighter, not wanting to let go.
“We better go… Your flight,” he mumbled into my hair. I nodded, and pulled away from him. He gripped my hand, and lead me towards the car. Like always, he opened the door for me, helping me in and shutting the door carefully behind me. He sighed yet again, and walked over to the drivers’ side of the car, getting in and fastening his seatbelt and bringing the engine to life. He turned to me, and pulled out a set of keys from his jean’s pocket.
“Mom… wanted me to give you these. The keys to my place in Brighton.”
I just stared at them. I didn’t really… see it coming. I mean, I did, but this all made it so real. I felt him reach over me, leaning down and picking up my bag from the floor, and placing them in there, before putting my bag back down at my feet on the floor of the car. When he sat up, he lingered at my face for a while, his eyes scanning my face and the emotions they were showing. He lent down ever so slightly, kissing my cheek. He sat up properly in his seat, driving off toward the airport.
Frank parked up in the multi-story car park, helping me out and getting my case from the back. No words were said during the check in, and the baggage check.
Then it was time for us to part.
He turned to me, grasping both of my hands in his. His eyes matched what emotion I was feeling - watery, depressed, full of regret… I could go on.
“Sazzy,” he croaked, his eyes suddenly brimming. My tears had already spilled over the edge of my eyelids, forming hot, wet tracks down my cheeks.
“Please don’t cry…” he mumbled, his tears finally escaping from his eyelids, racing down his face. I broke out into a sob, my shoulders shaking violently.
“Please… please, Sazzy,” he whimpered, and I could hear the strain of his voice battling against the lump in his throat.
“F-Frank… I-I- I’m gonna miss you so much!” I cried, wiping under my eyes quickly. He nodded, pulling me close to him, against his chest.
“I won’t ever forget you.”
I bawled into his chest, finding the energy and the words for what I wanted to say. All the emotions in me kept overtaking, trying to escape.
Frank pulled me from his chest, his lips meeting mine in a quick movement.
“Ring me when you land, okay? And go straight to my… well, your place, now. Don’t go back to your Mom’s until the next day, okay?” I nodded, controlling my tears.
“Frank… I-”
“Don’t say it.”
“But I love you.”
I saw the tears run faster down his cheeks, his lip ring glistening in the light. It was an image of beauty.
“I love you too. Don’t ever forget it, okay?” he whispered, his hands threaded into my hair. I nodded, and he kissed the top of my head.
“This is the final call for flight EG 527 to London Gatwick. Could all passengers please proceed to gate 12. Thank you.”
Frank shut his eyes, and sniffed. He cracked open his eyes again, and I could see the queue of people behind him thinning at gate 12. I rested my eyes on his again, at my adoring boyfriend, whom I loved so much.
“You have to go,” he mumbled, his hands still locked into my hair. He lent forward, his lips brushing against mine. His tongue licked at my lips, and I opened obediently for what may be the last time.
He pulled away softly after a few seconds, a hand brushing against my face.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said quietly, his eyes darting all over my face. I looked over his face again, memorizing every inch. The amazing colour of his eyes, the pock mark in between his eyebrows, the way his eyebrows curved in a slightly feminine fashion, and how his thin, perfect lips shaped according to his emotions.
“You’ll land at three thirty in the morning, okay? Don’t forget. And get a taxi back,” he explained, his hands resting on my cheeks.
“Okay,” I replied, leaning my head on his.
“…Go, now. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Frank was in the living room - he hadn’t come up after he put my suitcase in the car. I could hear him mumbling to Linda over the babbling of the television - he sounded upset. I wasn’t one for eavesdropping. If he wanted to tell me, he would. I took a deep breath, calming myself.
No crying, no crying, no crying…
I walked into the living room, seeing Frank sat in the armchair and Linda on the sofa. Frank smiled at me, and stood up.
“Ready?” he asked, grasping my free hand. I smiled back at him, squeezing his hand. Linda stood up then, and Frank hesitated, pulling my bag from my hands and going out the front door - to put it in the car, I suppose.
“Sazzy…” Linda started, a small smile gracing her lips. I smiled back, and she held out her arms. I walked into them, wrapping my own loosely around her waist.
“I’ll miss you,” I said, my head resting on her shoulder. I heard her sniffle.
“Me, too. Look after yourself, okay? And call, as well,” she encouraged, her voice thick.
No crying, no crying, no crying!
I pulled away, before the stinging sensation that I’d gotten so accustomed to took over.
“Bye, Mum,” I whispered, walking out of the living room and out of the house, looking back at the house I’ll probably never see again. And the people I love so dearly.
Frank was lent across the passenger side of his car, a cigarette nestled between his thumb and fore-finger. When I’d shut the front door behind me, he smiled, dropping his cigarette on the floor and treading on it before walking over to me. He placed two fingers under my chin, pushing up so he could look into my eyes. He took both my hands in his, his deep and bright hazel eyes focused on my brown eyes. His eyes didn’t show much joy at all - they showed sorrow, and apprehension, and possibly regret.
“Are you okay?” he murmured, his eyebrows creasing together in worry. I didn’t reply, and he sighed.
“Are you?” I asked, squeezing his hands. He hesitated.
“How can I be, knowing that I might not ever see you again?” he whispered. We never broke the contact our eyes were making. My eyes started to well up with tears yet again.
No damn crying!
“Don’t cry,” he whispered again, and I could see the tears forming in his. I fought against my emotions, trying to do as I was told.
“Frank, I-”
“It’s okay. I’ll miss you so damn much,” he uttered, in a thick, heavy voice. He let go of my hands, pulling me into him. I dabbed at my eyes, trying to keep my make-up intact but remove the tears clinging to my lashes. His chin rested on my shoulder, and I felt him kissing my neck. I gripped onto him tighter, not wanting to let go.
“We better go… Your flight,” he mumbled into my hair. I nodded, and pulled away from him. He gripped my hand, and lead me towards the car. Like always, he opened the door for me, helping me in and shutting the door carefully behind me. He sighed yet again, and walked over to the drivers’ side of the car, getting in and fastening his seatbelt and bringing the engine to life. He turned to me, and pulled out a set of keys from his jean’s pocket.
“Mom… wanted me to give you these. The keys to my place in Brighton.”
I just stared at them. I didn’t really… see it coming. I mean, I did, but this all made it so real. I felt him reach over me, leaning down and picking up my bag from the floor, and placing them in there, before putting my bag back down at my feet on the floor of the car. When he sat up, he lingered at my face for a while, his eyes scanning my face and the emotions they were showing. He lent down ever so slightly, kissing my cheek. He sat up properly in his seat, driving off toward the airport.
Frank parked up in the multi-story car park, helping me out and getting my case from the back. No words were said during the check in, and the baggage check.
Then it was time for us to part.
He turned to me, grasping both of my hands in his. His eyes matched what emotion I was feeling - watery, depressed, full of regret… I could go on.
“Sazzy,” he croaked, his eyes suddenly brimming. My tears had already spilled over the edge of my eyelids, forming hot, wet tracks down my cheeks.
“Please don’t cry…” he mumbled, his tears finally escaping from his eyelids, racing down his face. I broke out into a sob, my shoulders shaking violently.
“Please… please, Sazzy,” he whimpered, and I could hear the strain of his voice battling against the lump in his throat.
“F-Frank… I-I- I’m gonna miss you so much!” I cried, wiping under my eyes quickly. He nodded, pulling me close to him, against his chest.
“I won’t ever forget you.”
I bawled into his chest, finding the energy and the words for what I wanted to say. All the emotions in me kept overtaking, trying to escape.
Frank pulled me from his chest, his lips meeting mine in a quick movement.
“Ring me when you land, okay? And go straight to my… well, your place, now. Don’t go back to your Mom’s until the next day, okay?” I nodded, controlling my tears.
“Frank… I-”
“Don’t say it.”
“But I love you.”
I saw the tears run faster down his cheeks, his lip ring glistening in the light. It was an image of beauty.
“I love you too. Don’t ever forget it, okay?” he whispered, his hands threaded into my hair. I nodded, and he kissed the top of my head.
“This is the final call for flight EG 527 to London Gatwick. Could all passengers please proceed to gate 12. Thank you.”
Frank shut his eyes, and sniffed. He cracked open his eyes again, and I could see the queue of people behind him thinning at gate 12. I rested my eyes on his again, at my adoring boyfriend, whom I loved so much.
“You have to go,” he mumbled, his hands still locked into my hair. He lent forward, his lips brushing against mine. His tongue licked at my lips, and I opened obediently for what may be the last time.
He pulled away softly after a few seconds, a hand brushing against my face.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said quietly, his eyes darting all over my face. I looked over his face again, memorizing every inch. The amazing colour of his eyes, the pock mark in between his eyebrows, the way his eyebrows curved in a slightly feminine fashion, and how his thin, perfect lips shaped according to his emotions.
“You’ll land at three thirty in the morning, okay? Don’t forget. And get a taxi back,” he explained, his hands resting on my cheeks.
“Okay,” I replied, leaning my head on his.
“…Go, now. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”